I dreamt of living. I dreamt of loving and being loved, by
my mother, father and elder brother. I was sure my mother would be my best
friend, in spite of the hundered thousand friends I would make at school and
college. I was positive my father would be my man, till my last breath, in
spite of having a boyfriend at college and a husband later on. I was dead sure
my brother would take care of me, like I was a part of him. I was, wasn’t I?
It was few days back that my mother and father showed each
other how much they loved each other. They held hands, kissed each other,
caressed each other and woke up the next morning to a bright, sunny morning. My
father, in spite of the slow and caring movements the night before, was in a
hurry to get to work. And my mother, still on bed just looked at him with the
same loving eyes with which she had looked at my father the night before.
Days passed by, and one fine morning my mother was not
feeling well. She felt dizzy and sick, and ran to the bathroom. She had the doubts, but she wanted to be sure and surprise my father once she was certain. She
met the doctor, the same doctor who had told her about my brother for the first
time. My mother was thrilled beyond words. She ran home, to an empty home, to
make it the happiest home with the glad news once it was full. My brother came
back from school, and was surprised when my mother let him go out to play in
spite of not completing the homework. After all, she was too busy waiting to
announce my arrival. My dad came home, a little bit early. May be God had had
enough of making my mother wait. At the dinner table, Papa asked Mother how the
day was. She said she was not feeling well in the morning and had to go to the
doctor. My father, shocked, dropped his fork and went to her side covering her
in his shoulders and asked her if everything was ok and why she hadn’t told him
earlier. She looked at him, and then to my brother, and then to the only empty
chair around the table and announced, “I guess the fourth chair is going to be
occupied soon”! My father looked at her with wide open eyes and my brother ran
to hug her. I guess my brother understood it a lot faster than Papa himself!
Since the doctor knew Mother and Father earlier, they had
asked for my gender, so that they could think of names. And the happy doctor
pronounced it to be a girl! My parents came back home, happy, only to be told
brainwashed by my Grandmother to abort the baby, since it was a girl. My mother
was devastated and heart-broken, but her cries fell on deaf ears. Father tried
to convince Granny and tell her that I would be the sweetest baby, be it a girl
or boy. But those too fell on to deaf ears.
And then, they killed me!
I dreamt of living. I dreamt of loving and being loved, by
my mother, father and elder brother. I was sure my mother would be my best
friend, in spite of the hundered thousand friends I would make at school and
college. I was positive my father would be my man, till my last breath, in
spite of having a boyfriend at college and a husband later on. I was dead sure
my brother would take care of me, like I was a part of him. But they remain to
be just dreams!
..................................................................................................................................................................
This baby had an urge to live and face the obstacles of life
with the help of her family. But her Granny put them all to rest in a minute.
Female feticide still prevails in several parts of India, and it is high time
it is stopped. Everyone has the right to live and we have no right to go
against this right!
Days passed by, and one fine morning my mother was not
feeling well. She felt dizzy and sick, and ran to the bathroom. She had the doubts, but she wanted to be sure and surprise my father once she was certain. She
met the doctor, the same doctor who had told her about my brother for the first
time. My mother was thrilled beyond words. She ran home, to an empty home, to
make it the happiest home with the glad news once it was full. My brother came
back from school, and was surprised when my mother let him go out to play in
spite of not completing the homework. After all, she was too busy waiting to
announce my arrival. My dad came home, a little bit early. May be God had had
enough of making my mother wait. At the dinner table, Papa asked Mother how the
day was. She said she was not feeling well in the morning and had to go to the
doctor. My father, shocked, dropped his fork and went to her side covering her
in his shoulders and asked her if everything was ok and why she hadn’t told him
earlier. She looked at him, and then to my brother, and then to the only empty
chair around the table and announced, “I guess the fourth chair is going to be
occupied soon”! My father looked at her with wide open eyes and my brother ran
to hug her. I guess my brother understood it a lot faster than Papa himself! 
